They left on a fine day, and made their way in stages down to the English territories. There they were to load the massive tuns of wine, furs and materials, before turning about and making their way back, but for Isok, much of the joy of the journey was lost on the early, outward section.
The winds took them easily around the western tip of Cornwall, then headed east along the coast of England until they arrived at Falmouth, where they took on fresh water and breads. It was there that the master was importuned by a priest.
‘Please, you must,’ Isok heard him say, but Isok was helping load the water, and could hear little of what was said. Still, at some point the master seemed to nod and grunt his consent, a small purse of money was passed to him, and soon afterwards, a man was led aboard.
Isok stared. He could be in no doubt. It was David. His hair was shaggy, he was dressed as a penitent in sackcloth and he looked as filthy and drawn as only a beggar can; but it was still David, and Isok felt his heart thrill to think that he would be able to speak to someone from his home again. He saw David being led ungently to the prow, and then Isok continued with his work, assured that he would later seek his old reeve, and ask what he was doing here.
The work was unremitting, and as soon as the stores were loaded, the ship was underway, so Isok had to climb up the ratlines to work on the sail, and because of the curious gusting winds, he had to keep climbing up and down for most of the rest of the day.
At one point, when the wind was blowing steadily, and Isok had some minutes of peace, he walked up to the prow. There he found David in a small metal chamber. ‘David?’ he asked. ‘Is that you?’
The face was David’s, but the eyes were those of a rabbit in the hound’s mouth, haunted and terrified. ‘Isok? Is it really you?’
‘Why are you dressed like this?’
‘I was found stealing bread,’ David said dully. ‘They called the hue and cry against me and I had to win sanctuary. They gave me my life provided I agreed to abjure the realm, so here I am. This was the first ship which would take me,’ he added bitterly.
‘Well, we’ll soon be in Guyenne,’ Isok said cheeringly.
David looked at him sourly and turned away. ‘You may be. I’ll never get there.’
‘Why? What, are you ill?’
‘I was a pirate once, Isok.’
Isok knew that. Almost every man on St Nicholas had turned his hand to that ancient trade when fish were few and there was no food. ‘So?’
‘The master was on a ship I raided. He recognised me. Be glad you weren’t on that sailing, Isok,’ he added quietly, ‘because if you had been, you’d have been due for my end.’
‘I could free you …’
‘Try that and you’ll perish too,’ David said bitterly. ‘Just leave me.’
Isok could feel his heart swelling with sympathy. ‘I’m as guilty as you! I’ve raided ships as often. I could get the keys,’ he added hopefully.
‘And what? Both jump into the sea to drown?’ David snarled. ‘What’d be the point? Let me die. I’ve done the best I could for the vill … and for you. Remember me for that.’
‘You did kill the gather-reeve?’
‘Aye. Of course I did. There was no one else to make him stop sniffing around your wife, was there? You wouldn’t.’
‘I couldn’t. I hated it — and him — but how could I blame her for seeking a man when I was none? And I loathed him and wanted to kill him, but … he was only trying to do what she wanted him to.’
David looked at him a long time. ‘If I’d found a man getting his hand up Brosia’s skirts, I’d have cut it off for him; and sliced off his tarse and fed it to him. If she was my wife, she’d have regretted flaunting her arse at the nearest man. Sod it! Who cares! It was the same as that vain little prick of a priest. I killed him for that. He was trying to have a go at Tedia too, and I reckon he’d have had a go at Brosia the moment I wasn’t around. I don’t regret him dying either.’
Isok looked away. David was only aware of his own misery, and his self-pity was eroding Isok’s sympathy.
‘As for the Prior, he shouldn’t have tried to get me to confess. Mind, he looked almost glad when I strung him up! He didn’t care. Always hated the islands, didn’t he? Hah! What I’d give now for a last sight of St Nicholas. One last look. First thing in the morning, when the sea’s flat-calm and easy, the light just that golden colour, you know? And everywhere looks fresh and new, sort of clean. And I’d see it from a boat, a small one, with the wind singing in the rigging. Aha! That’d be the sight for a man about to die, wouldn’t it?’
It was the next day, while Isok was up working on the sail, that he heard the screams. Looking down with a feeling of ice in his bowels, he saw the prow’s cell opened, and David being pulled out by force. There was a gathering of ten sailors on the maindeck, and Isok saw them talking to David, who dropped to his knees before the master, begging. He was picked up unceremoniously, the shackles removed from his wrists, and then he was lifted to the rail.
The master said a few words, and then pushed. From where Isok was, he could see his friend’s face lingering for a moment near the water’s surface, and then saw it fade, a yellowish moon, sinking slowly below the waves, the drowning man’s mouth wide in a terrified, silent scream.